Insomnia
by loonyluna9
Summary: [HR slash, before 6th year] Full summary inside. What would you do if you had a crush on your best friend? What if he was a guy? What if you were a guy too? What if your best friend was Harry Potter? Welcome to Ron's world. Please enjoy your stay.
1. Chapter 1

**Author:** loonyluna9

**Title:** Insomnia

**Rating:** T (for a little, uh...inappropriate 16 year old boy talk describing Snape's sex life (in the next chapter). Maybe more crude stuff will come up too. Who knows.)

**Dedication:** To my ex, who tolerated my slash obsession ("You're a little freak aren't you?"-Rea) and whom I still love a lot. And to anyone who bothers to review my crap. I love you too. ; )

**Disclaimer:** Ask yourself: Do you think this series would really be as kid-friendly and PG if I were the owner/author of it? I think not.

**Warnings:** You no like slash? Go 'way poophead! You like slash? Come join the partyyyy!

**Summary:** What would you do if you had a crush on your best friend? Welcome to the majority of the teenage population. What if you had a crush on your best male friend? Welcome to the majority of the female teenage population. What if you you were a guy too? Welcome to the majority of the gay male teenage population. What if you could do magic and your best friend was Harry Potter? Welcome to Ron Weasley's world: population 1.

**Quick Ramble:** Add 1 cup of low fat mild cliche-ness. Mix in 6 months worth of stalling and not writing on my part. Stir in 2 teaspoons of extra virgin OOC de la Ron. Pour in 3 cups of well-stirred frustration and writers block. Add liberal amounts of chocolate. Mix until thoroughly blended. Pop into oven for 2 hours on low heat. Set on cooling rack. Read. Enjoy.

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**Insomnia  
by loonyluna9**

Pale white rays of moonlight flood through the open window, seeping into the creaky floorboards, dusty furniture, and spring mattresses arranged about the room. The stars dust and scatter the sky like diamonds on a blanket of black velvet, and aid the moon in illuminating the slumbering bedroom on this hot summer night. A soft breeze floats lazily through the window, smelling of sweet blossomed flowers and big winding oak trees. And sitting in these trees are several tawny owls, serenading the dark sky with their soft tranquil hoots.

But despite this scenic and serene atmosphere, a pair of bright blue eyes lie quietly in the corner, bloodshot and wide awake. A set of pallid, freckled legs and arms twist about restlessly on the worn bed, sending the bed springs into an erratic frenzy of squeaking. Plagued by a sudden burst of insomnia, Ron Weasley is rendered incapable of falling asleep. All attempts at trying to doze off failed spectacularly and still leave a frustrated and alert Ron lying in the dark.

His dilated eyes focus in on his muggle alarm clock on his nightstand. The bright neon red numbers flash 1:46 am like a mocking reminder, and send the grumbling red head into a deluge of complaints. His eyes shift, for the umpteenth time, to his Chudley Cannons poster hanging on his closet door. The zooming figures are a blur of vibrant orange as they race on their broomsticks at alarming speeds. Quaffles bounce back and forth while Beater bats swing to and fro, knocking violent balls up and down the pitch.

"If they played like that during a real Quidditch game, they'd actually be giving me something to cheer about." Ron mumbled to the silent room, rolling his eyes at nothing in particular.

He heaved a sigh of annoyance, coming to the realization that everyone was asleep except him. There wasn't a peep in the entire house, aside from his father's guttural snoring from down the hall, and it was quite off-putting to be the only one in The Burrow not getting a wink of sleep. Even Harry, who was staying with the Weasleys for the rest of the summer, was sound asleep in the bed against the opposite wall.

Giving another irritated groan, Ron gazed down at his night shirt. The light blue cotton shirt was now damp with perspiration and beginning to stick to his chest. His legs weren't faring much better either. The plaid green pajama shorts were now riding up in the heat and were a little damp too. And although he hadn't slept a wink, Ron was sporting a serious case of bed-head; his fiery red hair was now sticking up at awkward angles, completely tangled and disheveled.

Finally and utterly fed up with the hot and itchy blanket, stifling air, unnerving lack of sleep, sweat-soaked clothes, and tremendous boredom that comes with this kind of thing, Ron Weasley did the only logical thing he could think of in a dire situation like this: he grabbed a convenient balled up sock from the floor and chucked it at Harry as hard as he could. Hitting it's target, it bounded off the sleeping head with a thump and landed on the floor.

Giving a disturbed snort, Harry slowly opened his eyes and blinked rather stupidly. Squinting in the near-darkness he peered around the room, noticing the…green? No…black? Maybe blue. But either way, Harry noticed the dark-colored sock ball (seemingly innocent) on the floor. He willed his sleep-slowed body to sit up and stared at the blurry outline of his best friend. One glance (after fumbling to put his glasses on) showed the poorly concealed grin on Ron's face, which he was still valiantly trying to hide. Barely awake enough to form coherent sentences in the first place, his mind indiscreetly nudged him and hinted he should say something. Slurred and uneven, Harry managed to garble:

"Ron?...Didjou jus' throw a sock at meh?"

It was only a matter of seconds before Ron started snorting and guffawing uncontrollably. The laughter only increased in intensity when he noticed the helplessly confused expression on Harry's face; that and the fact that he still looked like he was half asleep, with his unruly hair, rumpled pajamas, and drowsy eyes.

"_Actually, he looks kind of…cute,"_ a little voice in the back of Ron's head said quietly. The laughter abruptly stopped as Ron politely told the opinionated voice in his head to shove off.

"Shove off? Ron, who the hell are you talking to? And why on earth did you _hit me with a sock?_" Harry muttered, finally regaining the power of articulation.

"Uh, no one," he replied sheepishly, forgetting the other question entirely. He flushed slightly with embarrassment at both his mental confession and the fact he had actually told the voice to go away. Out loud.

Ron sighed. Things had been getting weird like this for the past few months. A cloud of confusion had formed over his head and it seemed like he just couldn't shake it off.

Harry and Ron were the best of mates. They've had high _and_ low points in their friendship, but in the end they would always put their necks on the line for each other. They always confided in the other, talked of Quidditch, school, girls, and everything in between. They laughed together as they recounted foolishly hopeful young girls approaching Harry, asking for dates to Hogsmeade. He always politely turned them down and resumed going about his business, but they'd always think about it in the dormitory late at night and laugh at the experience. But although Ron appeared amused on the outside, he secretly felt the urge to wring the girl's neck, drag her through the Forbidden Forest by her hair, and manually peel her toenails and eyelashes off to feed to blast-ended skrewts.

Something told him these urges weren't normal.

And lets not forget the way Ron felt the gripping inclination to peek at Harry in the Quidditch locker room showers (not at all for masculine reassurance and comparison), read the latest drivel in the _Prophet_ over his shoulder just to get close to Harry, how he got that surreal light-headed feeling when he smiled at Ron, or how he flushed bright red when Harry came within breathing space of him, or how he was taken aback by how stunningly emerald his eyes were, or how he habitually searched large crowds for a head of unruly raven hair, or how he beat himself up whenever they had a row even if it wasn't his fault to begin with.

Oh dear god, how could we forget that.

"Hello? Earth to Ron…?" Harry waved a hand in front of his face, urging him to come back to reality.

"Huh, what?" Ron asked, finally losing that faraway look and regaining his senses. He gave a little gasp of alarm though as his eyes focused in. How did Harry suddenly get that close? A small, telltale blush began to involuntarily spread over his cheeks.

"_You know, you're actually within kissing distance. All you have to do is just lean forward slightly and…" _

"Christ! Will you go away for just a minute?!" Ron shouted. He was really getting fed up with that voice, always interjecting it's unwanted opinions and such.

"Ron? Are you okay?" Harry asked worriedly with a furrowed brow, slightly disturbed by his friend's outburst and drawing back a bit. "You're a little off-color. Literally and figuratively speaking." The slight blush kissing Ron's cheeks flared.

"I'm fine. Really. Just frustrated, that's all." he muttered, turning away to hide his face.

He_ really_ had to stop doing this sort of thing.

**End of Chapter One**

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**Preview of Chapter Two**

_"Well, I suppose I have mixed feelings too. The holiday is nice. Even nicer with you here," Ron said honestly, trying his hardest to once again ignore the voice in his head making catcalls, kissing noises, and whistling. "But I don't mind going back to school in two weeks so much. Just as long as Malfoy transfigures himself into food for the giant squid, Snape doesn't act like he's got a stick up his arse all the time, and Trelawney lays off the cooking sherry."_

_"I don't think…that's going to happen–anytime s-soon." Harry managed to choke out around a loud burst of laughter. This sudden wave of humor and hilarity was apparently contagious as Ron joined in too, gripping his aching sides._

_A full minute passed until they finally managed to get themselves under control, and even then there was an occasional chuckle or wide smile. They sat in amicable silence for a moment._

_"You know what the teachers really need?" Harry began._

_"Huh?"_

_"A really good shag."_

_"What?!" Ron spluttered, not believing his ears. Perhaps he misinterpreted what Harry just said but it sounded like 'shag'. "Come again?"_

_"I said the teachers need a really good shag. It would loosen them up a bit. What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked bewilderedly, noting that Ron's expression resembled the face of someone who just got an unexpected whiff of dragon dung. _

_(If you wanted to simplify it, he looked like Snape on one of his really bitchy days but that was beside the point.)_

_"Are you off your rocker? You just said–! I mean, a shag–? Can you picture…? Snape, he–! Ewww! That's just nasty!" Ron stammered incoherently._

_

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_

**Author's Note:  
**1. I am not DEAD. Just want to clear that up.  
2. Yeah, I know it was a bit cliche but I couldn't resist the urge to write my own little cliche fic. Just about every author does at some point in their time here so I decided to do mine now and get it out the way.  
3. There will be more of this and hopefully an update soon. I orginally started on this months and months and months ago but I gave up on it for a bit. Then some inspiration hit and I tried again. I've got about 4 more pages of this typed up to hold me (and you) until I write the rest. This is my very first multi-chaptered fic so be patient with me. Please.  
4. You've gotten this far now reading through all my crap. Why not take an extra 10 to 20 more seconds to type a quick a review. If you really want me to, I'll return the favor. Plus, you get the added bonus of me loving you. Forever. 3


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so I realize I'm the world's worst author and I've taken forever to update, but hey. I'm back, alright? I just lost my inspiration a bit. A few semi-important things before we get on with the next chapter:

1. I just realized this is more like a PWP (**P**lot? **W**hat **P**lot?) So if you were expecting some epic adventure where they travel, fall in love, and run off into the sunset together, you're going to be sorely disappointed. Leave now if you must, but this is really just supposed to be nice and fluffy multichaptered snack fic.  
2. It gets slightly graphic in this chapter because of the immature boy talk coming up. And the mention of Dudley and porn in the same quotation. -shudder- If that's gonna freak you out of turn you off you know what to do. Also, I don't know if it's graphic enough for this fic to qualify for an M rating, but if it does let me know!

Yep, that's about it. Once again, I'm sorry for the huge three month delay. As a reward, this chapter probably a little better, and includes a nice long preview of the next chap. Enjoy : )

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**Insomnia  
Chapter 2**

"Hello? Earth to Ron…?" Harry waved a hand in front of his face, urging him to come back to reality.

"Huh, what?" Ron asked, finally losing that faraway look and regaining his senses. He gasped slightly as his eyes focused in. How did Harry suddenly get that close? A small, telltale blush began to involuntarily spread over his cheeks.

"_You know, you're actually within kissing distance. All you have to do is just lean forward slightly and…" _

"Christ! Will you go away for just a minute?!" Ron shouted. He was really getting fed up with that voice, always interjecting it's unwanted opinions and such.

"Ron? Are you okay?" Harry asked worriedly with a frown, slightly disturbed by his friend's outburst and drawing back a bit. "You're a little off-color. Literally and figuratively speaking." The slight blush kissing Ron's cheeks flared.

"I'm fine. Really. Just frustrated, that's all." he muttered, turning away to hide his face.

He_ really_ had to stop doing this sort of thing.

"Right. Well you still didn't tell me why you threw a sock at me." Harry said, moving back to his own bed a few feet away. He climbed onto the mattress, spread his legs out, and rested his back against the headboard. He peered at Ron curiously behind his frames.

"Oh. Well, I just wanted to talk to you I guess. I couldn't sleep for the life of me and I was bored. So I threw a sock at you to wake you up, so I'd have company that is." Ron replied, grinning at how foolish it all sounded.

"Oh?" Harry inquired, cocking his head in mild amusement.

"Yeah…so. You want to talk?"

"Sure, we might as well. I mean, I don't think there's anyway I'm getting back to sleep now." Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, earning an appreciative chuckle from Ron.

"Yeah…"

"Yeah."

An awkwardly comfortable silence followed this statement. (If that even makes sense.)

"So uh, are you ready to go back to school?" Ron asked finally, immediately feeling weird about the question. He sounded just like his mum and dad when Harry first arrived a few weeks ago, wanting to know how Harry had been, what he'd been doing so far this summer, did he pass his NEWTs. The usual stuff.

"Hmm…well I really like spending the majority of the hols over here. So I wouldn't object to a few extra weeks 'til we go back. But I kind of miss Hogwarts too," Harry replied giving a bit of a smile. "I don't know. Mixed feelings I guess. What about you?"

"Well, I suppose I have mixed feelings too. The holiday is nice. Even nicer with you here," Ron said honestly, trying his hardest to once again ignore the voice in his head making catcalls, kissing noises, and whistling. "But I don't mind going back to school in two weeks so much. Just as long as Malfoy transfigures himself into food for the giant squid, Snape doesn't act like he's got a stick up his arse all the time, and Trelawney lays off the cooking sherry."

"I don't think…that's going to happen– anytime soon." Harry managed to choke out around a boisterous bout of laughter. This sudden wave of hilarity was apparently contagious as Ron joined in.

A full minute passed until they finally managed to get themselves under control, and even then there was an occasional chuckle or wide smile. They sat in amiable silence for a moment.

"You know what the teachers really need?" Harry began.

"What?"

"A really good shag."

"_What?!_" Ron spluttered, not believing his ears. Perhaps he misinterpreted it but it sounded as if he had said 'shag'. "Come again?"

"I said the teachers need a really good shag. It would loosen them up a bit…What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked bewilderedly, noting that Ron's expression resembled the face of someone who just got an unexpected whiff of dragon dung.

(If you wanted to simplify it, he looked like Snape on one of his really bitchy days but that was beside the point.)

"Are you off your rocker? You just said–! I mean, a shag–? Can you picture…? Snape, he–! Ewww! That's just nasty!" Ron stammered incoherently.

Somehow, Harry managed to interpret whatever babble just came out of Ron's mouth as he suddenly made a face quite similar to his.

"Ah. I see what you're saying." he replied, scrunching up his nose in revulsion and mild nausea. "I wouldn't want to see Snape pushed against some wall in a dingy broom closet with his pants around his ankles, getting his rocks off with some woman."

"Please!" Ron groaned, clapping his hands over his reddening ears. "Don't go into detail!"

Harry threw his head back in laughter, obviously enjoying scarring his friend. Ignoring Ron's pleas and his own churning stomach advising him differently, he continued.

"I can see it now. Snape's head is thrown back in mock wild pleasure as her mouth encloses upon his small oily penis, her jaw working frantically as he she tries to get him off," he begins, not sure of where he's going with this, but pretty confident he won't like it. "He yells and screams for her to suck harder making a whole show of being on the brink of going into oblivion. But it is all an act because, tragically, Snape can't come or even get it up an inch. All that grease he's built up has blocked his come glands so badly, not even an orgy complete with toys and beautiful naked women can get a drop out of him!"

Ron was caught somewhere between laughing so hard he couldn't breathe and being so disgusted he wanted to claw his brains out to rid himself of the image. He settled for somewhere in the middle as he keeled over with laughter and complained of how sick Harry's mind was.

"Do you daydream about these things or something, mate?" Ron wheezed, trying to regain his composure. "Hell, that was a lot of detail!"

Harry just gave a mischievous grin.

"I snuck on Dudley's computer one day while he was out with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. I was just curious about what he did on there, 'cause I swear I heard electronic noises coming from his room on some nights. Well anyway, you wouldn't believe how much porn he's downloaded on that computer. Hours and hours worth."

"Really?" Ron asked, caught between disbelief, disgust, and odd curiosity.

"Yep." Harry nodded in affirmation. "Everything from gangbangs to role-play to girl-on-girl stuff."

"Wow." Ron replied in a small, incredulous voice.

"Yeah, I guess that tosser's desperate for some action," Harry snorted, "I know the girls won't touch him with a ten foot pole, so he's got to rely on porn to get his wand polished."

They both threw their heads back and laughed.

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**Preview of Chapter 3  
**

_"…or a he." Harry replied after several moments of quiet reflection._

_"What? What do mean by 'or a he?'" Ron questioned sitting up to look at Harry in the moonlight. The whole conversation they've had so far would have been a bit easier if they had both cast a lumos, but Ron liked the cloak of the night. He guessed Harry did too._

_"I mean, Snape could have been shagged by a willing man."_

_"Okay…" Ron trailed off, lost on where this conversation was going. The story had only been for a laugh, right? Now Harry was treating it like it actually happened or could. "What? Do you think Snape's gay or something?"_

_"No, not necessarily," Harry began carefully. "It's just that we always automatically assume a person is straight, unless they say they aren't or they're obvious. Some people are just very good at hiding it and you'd never really know unless they chose to tell you."_

_A sudden wave of paranoia washed over Ron as he took in Harry's words. Was it just him, or was Harry really insinuating that he had found Ron out and was trying to coax him into telling him how he felt about him? His eyes widened in astonishment at...Wait a second. Was he really gay? He had never really considered himself to be. As far as Ron knew, he was never attracted to any other guys, except Harry. He most certainly still liked girls, although it had been a while since one had caught his fancy. Whether he was possibly bisexual was a whole other can of worms he didn't plan to open until later. For now he had to focus on the present._

_And at present, Harry was calling his name._

_"Ron? Are you there? You keep spacing out on me."_

_"Yeah, I'm here. Sorry, what were you saying mate?"__

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**Author's Note:**  
I hope this chapter is a bit more fulfilling. The next one will be less funny stuff and more serious stuff, such as Ron's emotions being put on the line. -ahem- So yes, look forward to that. If you don't see that by the end of the month, I might be really occupied or (if worst comes to worst) some of my inspiration left me. But fear not oh mighty bold slash reader. I swear I will finish this. To make up for the potential delay, I may put up the other Harry/Ron fic I'm working on (which in my opinion is a lot better and much more fun). So lookout for that, or even better, put me on your author alert list!

Okay, you've made it this far. Why not take the time to write a really quick review or words of encouragement to get me moving on this thing. It's kind of upsetting to see 200 or 500+ hits and only 5 reviews. Makes me not want to update. So if you wanna see more, just tell me what you think! It's that simple guys.


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